


The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

by thelogicalloganipus (awkwardkermitfrog)



Category: Sanders Sides
Genre: Birthday, Christmas, Gen, Whee, virgil's birthday
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 02:26:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13137171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardkermitfrog/pseuds/thelogicalloganipus
Summary: Prompt: Virgil wasn’t expecting anything for his birthday but he was surprised by each of the sides because they wanted to spend the day with him and it makes him so happy.Warnings: there's some angst but none really





	The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

**December 18th, 2017.**

Snowfall, down across the window, flurrying in peaceful gusts of white, played against the window of Virgil’s room. It felt strange to stare out the window, knowing that the likelihood that Thomas would see any real snow this Christmas was very slim. Roman appreciated the fantasy of a white Christmas, complete with decorative lights and beautiful snowfall. As a result, windows to their fictional world showed evergreens, snow, and other festivities. One day, there had even been a small parade. Virgil was glad that the exhaustion of the holidays had caused Roman to lose a bit of his exuberance and the displays had become less grand with time. It made staring out the window something pleasant, rather than overwhelming. 

Today, he found himself sitting on the edge of his bed, staring out into the evening, watching the snow flurry down with a great feeling of peace. It felt isolating, a pleasant sort of loneliness that he tended to experience when he was allowed to be alone in the quiet and the dark. 

Virgil was avoiding looking at the calendar. He was avoiding Patton’s insistence on asking him what kind of cake he liked. He was avoiding, above all things, rejection. Patton had been the only one to ask him what he thought of birthday celebrations, and he had avoided the question every time he’d been asked. He liked it here, where the snow muffled the outside world. He liked it here, in the dark, watching it whirl around the streetlight in the distance. Roman had said that it felt very much like Narnia. Virgil had to silently agree that it was nothing short of magic. Beautiful, distracting magic.

He laid down on his bed, still staring out into the cold, shivering a little, and thought about tomorrow. Tomorrow would be a day to spend alone. That much he was certain of.

**December 19th, 2017.**

Virgil stirred at the sound of three familiar, cheery knocks. He closed his eyes and buried his face into his pillow, groaning softly. Breakfast. He had never understood why Patton felt the need to try and include him in every breakfast. 

“Virgil, breakfast!” 

There it was. The second call that came every morning, like clockwork. Virgil opened sleep filled eyes and looked at the door. He could see the shadow of Patton’s feet fall across the floor, light seeping in from the hallway indicating that Thomas had had his own morning coffee. 

“I’m not hungry.” Virgil said, hoping he was loud enough for Patton to hear him. 

“Are you coming to breakfast?” Patton sounded slightly hurt, taken aback. It made Virgil’s stomach sink. 

“Yeah. I’m not coming.” Virgil replied. He laid there, waiting, swallowing back his insecurities. “I’ll be out later.” A lie and he knew it.

“Okay.” Patton’s voice sounded like he was swallowing something else. “Well... we’ll be out here.” 

Virgil watched for a moment as the shadow of Patton drifted away, away from him. He sighed and looked at the calendar across the room, obscured by shadow, days marked off methodically. He sat up from the bed and, taking the marker next to the calendar, began to scribble out the dark, blackening it completely. 

* * *

 

Two knocks this time. Very precise.

Virgil glanced at the door, away from his book, and sighed. “Go away, Logan.”

“Come now, Virgil. You must want to come and spend some time with us.” Logan’s contrast to Patton’s emotional distress was a welcome change. Virgil straightened up, considering for a moment. “We know it’s your birthday and that makes you nervous, but I assure you that we only want to have a good day with you.”

Virgil shook his head and rolled his eyes, staring at the door. It was too big a risk. “No.”

Logan sighed, impatient in tone. “Come now, Virgil. You can’t surely spend all day in there.”

“I can.” Virgil settled back into his bed and looked at the book, not truly reading, the small light next to his bed dimly illuminating the pages. “I am.” 

Logan made a noise of frustration and a moment later, Virgil listened to his footsteps move away. 

* * *

 

“Virgil, my dark prince, would you come out here a moment?”

Virgil stared at his door, another book in hand, and didn’t look up. “No.”

“Come on, you can’t seriously stay in there all day. You have to eat at some point.” 

“You know we don’t really need to eat.” Virgil still didn’t look up, instead absorbing the pages of the seventh Harry Potter book. “We’re not really real like that.”

“You’re real to me.” Virgil finally looked at the door, listening to Roman’s stress, and raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that what matters?”

“Nope.” Virgil shook his head. “I’m not coming out.”

Roman sighed from the other side of the door quite dramatically and leaned on it, the door giving a small thump. “Virgil... come on. Don’t be like this.”

Virgil looked out the window, at the snow that was steadily falling. He looked at the clock and was pleased to see that the day was nearly over. It felt bittersweet. Nothing could go wrong if he stayed in there, though. Nothing could hurt him.

“We just want to wish you a happy birthday.” Roman had sank down to the floor, leaning against it. “You’re acting like an emo nightmare, like you’re the drama queen of the group. What the heck, man?”

Virgil scrunched up his shoulders, staring the the pages of his book, shutting it gently. “I just need to stay in here.”

“But why?” Virgil could hear Roman getting annoyed. “You’re acting like all the stuff over the last year didn’t happen. Like you’re new again and we didn’t go through all that trouble to accept you.” He paused. “Did we do something to offend you?”

“N-no.” Virgil shook his head and looked out the window, noticing that it was getting windier. A reflection of Roman’s insecurity. “It’s just.... you know, it’s just today. That’s all.” He picked at his cuticles, glancing at the shadow of Roman against the door. “Why do you care?”

“I don’t know, Virgil.” Roman’s voice was agitated, offended. “I guess I just thought we were supposed to celebrate your birthday. I apologize for trying to... do something nice, I guess.” 

The words stung. Virgil let them hang there a moment, biting his lip. He looked at the door to see that the shadow of Roman was gone. 

“I was right.” Virgil muttered. He laid down on his side, looking again at the snow, which was now swirling wildly. “I was right.” 

**December 20th, 2017.**

Virgil yawned, stretching, pajamas hanging loosely over his body. He stood up and walked towards his door, pausing when he felt a small crunch under his foot.

“Weird.” Virgil muttered. He bent down and picked up the piece of paper. He brought it over to his bedside table, flipping on the switch. 

_Happy birthday!_

That was it. He opened it and saw it was signed by each of the other sides and swallowed, biting his cheek, looking away and placing the card on his desk. He drummed his fingers on the desk, shaking his head, staring at the ceiling and blinking hard. 

* * *

 

“Ah. Virgil. I see you’re up and about today. How nice.” Logan glanced up from his coffee for a moment before returning to his newspaper as Virgil walked into the kitchen, looking sheepish.

“Feeling better than yesterday, Verge?” Patton asked. He looked away from him a little. Virgil sighed and nodded, sitting at the table, looking at the patterns on the wood. 

“Good mor- oh.” Virgil turned to Roman, who was paused, in the doorway, looking at him. “Yes. Good morning, Virgil.” 

“Morning.” Virgil muttered, looking away awkwardly. 

There was a moment of silence as Patton dished some toast and eggs onto the table, along with a stack of pancakes, syrup, and butter. As Patton placed their breakfast on the table, Virgil couldn’t help but notice that the snow outside was swirling as it had the night before. The fictional little house rattled, the cabinets jostling a little with the sound of clinking of cups and plates. Virgil thought again about the card, about yesterday. The sides knocking on his door. The sides, waiting for him. Roman finally becoming frustrated, leaving. He closed his eyes a moment, prepared himself, and opened them again.

“Uh... so.” Virgil watched Patton as he sat down, heart thumping against his ribs. He listened to the wind, which was still strong, and glanced at Roman, who was piling three pancakes onto his plate. “So... I need to talk to you guys.” 

“Okay.” Logan set down his newspaper, folding it and placing it next to his plate. 

“What’s up, kiddo?” Patton asked, eyes wide, as he also sat down, coffee in front of him.

“Well. The thing is - I just. Hmm.” Virgil sighed and looked at Roman, who was watching him now. The wind outside calmed slightly, quieting. Virgil swallowed. “I’m sorry about yesterday.” He said, a little too quickly.

Roman nodded, then looked at Virgil again, chewing now on a thick slice of pancake. 

“I’m sorry that... I just. I don’t know. I got anxious.” Virgil shrugged. “That’s just what I do, I guess.”

“I accept your apology.” Logan leaned forward, getting a piece of toast. “Pass me the butter, would you?”

“You’re not mad?” Virgil tilted his head as Patton passed Logan the butter tin. 

“No, we’re not mad.” Patton began to stir sugar into his coffee, opening several packets and tearing off the paper. “Confused, but not mad.”

“What about you?” Virgil looked at Roman, nerves on edge again. “You were mad yesterday.”

Roman sighed. “Mad isn’t the right word. I just... I had all this stuff set up, you know, and I was frustrated. I’m sorry.” 

“Oh.” Virgil nodded, looking at his own empty plate. “I didn’t know.”

“No, I guess not.” Roman leaned back and looked up at Virgil. The wind outside had died down, replaced instead by a gentle snowfall. “After breakfast I’ll show you what we were going to do.”

“What were you going to do?” Virgil asked, eyebrows creased in confusion.

“Eat first.” Roman said playfully, slicing himself another piece of pancake. “At least one thing.”

“Okay.” Virgil leaned forward and stabbed a pancake with his fork. Looking squarely at Roman, he proceeded to shove the entirety of it in his mouth, chewing the hunk of the breakfast treat with some difficulty. He looked at Patton, who was giggling, and Logan, who was shaking his head, then back to Roman, whose eyebrows were raised in appreciation.

“All or nothing, with you, isn’t it?” Roman asked, snickering as Virgil held a napkin over his too-full mouth. 

* * *

 

“Alright, emo nightmare. Get out here.” 

Virgil stood up and walked towards Roman’s room, looking down, unsure what to say or think. He felt like a bundle of nerves. What had the sides done for him? His mind raced, thinking immediately of all the worst possibilities. A prank, maybe? He looked at the ground, biting his lip, and stopped at the foot of the room. 

It was covered in snow. But different. No - snow. But black. Glittery. He bent down, running his fingers through the stuff, to find it was cool but not freezing. It melted slightly on his fingers, leaving behind silvery glitter, shimmering against his pale skin. 

“Look up, kiddo.” 

Virgil looked up, slowly, his eyes taking in the strange sight. He stared, brown eyes wide, and watched the dazzling display of glittery Christmas look back at him. 

It was a Christmas tree. But purple. The lights strung across it were blacklights, as well as strings of white and blue. From above it, the strange snow like substance rained from the fantastical sky, covered in stars and brilliant galaxies. 

“Space was Logan’s idea. The tree was Patton’s. The snow was mine.” Roman stepped forward, rolling a ball of the stuff in his hand, smiling. “Do you like it?”

“Y-yeah. Wow.” Virgil nodded, still staring at everything. “I don’t - why is it Christmas themed?”

“Well, your birthday is very close to the holiday. Space would not truly be seen so clearly from a snowy sky, but I suppose aren’t aiming for realism.” Logan came from behind Virgil, looking a bit disheveled. Several spots of snow decorated his chest, indicating that Roman had won a snowball fight between them. “We thought it may be appropriate to combine the celebrations.” 

“Where’s Patton?” Virgil asked, stepping forward, still dazzled by the soft light from the tree and the sky. 

“I’m a cat!” Patton shrieked, running by them, full onesie on his body, sprinting into the fictional night. Virgil snickered as Logan stood there, staring after him, eyebrows sky high. 

“He’s a bit distracted.” Roman explained, smiling. “What do you say the two of us take on Logan in a snowball fight?”

“Wha- no!” Logan backed away, but then his eyebrow raised in a mischievous expression. “I call the tree as a fort location!”

“No fair!” Roman laughed, chasing after him. “You got that last time!”

“And you still won!” 

Virgil grinned, shaking his head, and laid down in the cool of the snow, staring up at the sky. Maybe birthdays weren’t so bad after all. 

Roman ran by, singing, "It's the most wonderful time of the year," and Virgil giggled. 

"Maybe it is." 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr @thelogicalloganipus


End file.
